
Bookjfc?^^" 



PRESENTED BY 




Ol^f. 




3n iM^mnrtam 



mth 3. HUsntt 



BORN IN BINGHAM, MAINE 
AUGUST 30, 1826 

DIED AT HIS RESIDENCE 

SWEET HOME 

CLIFTON, CINCINNATI, OHIO 

AUGUST 31, 1914 



\^jJU^'TY\ J yVb^/0 , (Xwv>ccrvv..cLa_- 'Vl<x^x>M3L-.y^(Xrv>cl/vu,>rr^^ 



Funeral Service 

at the Family Residence 
September 3d 

1914 
Interment 

in Spring Grove Cemetery 
CINCINNATI, OHIO 



(©fficiating Clergp 

Rev. a. H. Currier Oberlin, Ohio 

Rev. C. G. McNeill Cincinnati, Ohio 

Rev. Heber D. Ketch am Kankakee, IlUnois 

Rev. a. H. Norcross Zanesville, Ohio 

Rev. J. Benjamin Myers Columbus, Ohio 

^all Jgearers^ 

Mr. R. H. Stone, Jr Cincinnati, Ohio 

Mr. Frank M. Wilson Redwing, Minnesota 

Mr. George W. Stone Cincinnati, Ohio 

Mr. Oliver Obed Wilson. . . .Minneapolis, Minnesota 

Mr. Obed Wilson Stone St. Louis, Missouri 

Mr. William G. Miner Cincinnati, Ohio 



ittusiic 



SOLOIST — Mr. Aaron Currier. . . .Portland, Oregon 
PL\NIST— Miss Fanny M. Stone . . . Cincinnati, Ohio 



Three of the officiating clergy. Revs. Currier, McNeill and Myers, 
were relatives of Mr. Wilson. All the pall bearers were nephews, the 
soloist a cousin, the pianist a niece. 

5 



0xhtv of ^erbite 



INVOCATION Rev. A. H. Currier 

MUSIC — ''Shadow Land" Mr. x\aron Currier 

SCRIPTURE— Psalm XXIII. . . .Rev. A. H. Norcross 

REMARKS Rev. C. G. McNeill 

ADDRESS Rev. A. H. Currier 

PRAYER Rev. Heber D. Ketcham 

MUSIC— "Abide With Me" Mr. Aaron Currier 

BENEDICTION Rev. J. Benjamin Myers 



^\)t ^erbice 



Snbocation — 3^eb. S. ^. Currier 

Our gracious Heavenly Father, lift us by the power 
and influence of Thy Holy Spirit into the feeling of 
Thy presence; and make this service for which we 
are assembled contribute to Thy glory and the com- 
fort of our souls. — Amen, 

g)olo — Mv. Maton Currier 
^ianifiit— itliJB^s; Jfannp iW. g)tone 

THAT SHADOW-LAND SO BEAUTIFUL 

In the hush of twilight's shadow 

I can hear His gentle voice; 
I can hear Him sweetly calling, 

And it makes my heart rejoice. 
'Midst the toiling and the striving. 

This message I can see, 
There's a home and loving welcome 

In shadow-land for me. 

I can hear the angels singing, 

I can see them, robed in white; 
I can hear their voices blending 

With the echoes of the night: 
And in fanc}^ I can see them 

Around the great white throne. 
In that shadow-land so beautiful, 

Our loving Father's home. 
7 



There our lov'd ones wait to greet us, 

And the gates are open wide: 
They are waiting, they are longing, 

To have us by their side. 
Thus, when weary life is ended. 

There's rest for you and me. 
In that shadow-land so beautiful. 

Beyond the tideless sea. 

— P. Douglas Bird. 

Scripture Jaeabins— 23ti ^s^alm— a^eb. a. ^. ^oxtxo^^ 

The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want. 

He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: He 
leadeth me beside the still waters. 

He restoreth my soul: He leadeth me in the paths 
of righteousness for His name's sake. 

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow 
of death, I will fear no evil: for Thou art with me; Thy 
rod and Thy staff they comfort me. 

Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of 
mine enemies: Thou anointest my head with oil; my 
cup runneth over. 

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the 
days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the 
Lord forever. — Amen. 



2 Sam. 3: 38. — '' Knoio ye not that there is a prince 
and a great man fallen this day in Israel?'' 

Sometimes we stand so close to things that we 
do not and can not see them properly. An artist at 
work over his canvas finds it necessary, frequently, 
to step back a few j^aces to inspect his work. He 
can see it more clearly as it recedes from him. 

8 



So we find ourselves looking after our friend and 
kinsman as he takes his departure from this world, 
and realize, in the perspective, the great worth of 
the man and of his life's work, better than ever we 
could have realized it while close to him. 

My sober judgment is, that no man lived in the 
last hundred years who has exerted so profound an 
influence on society for its permanent good. He it 
was who made possible the wonderful advance in 
education which the last century marked. 

The standardizing of the school books made pos- 
sible the standardizing of methods and the stand- 
ardizing of courses of study. By it our schools took 
the form of a real system. 

Every educational institution in the land, from 
the little red schoolhouse to the foremost university, 
owes him a mighty debt of gratitude for benefits 
received. 

That means that every boy and every girl, every 
young man and every young woman, in these 
schools, colleges, and universities has been and will 
be benefited. 

His work is abiding. It will go on. So long as 
the world shall stand it is not likely that through 
any vicissitude society will surrender the benefits he 
conferred. 

With all this to his credit, his was a modest life, 
humble as it was noble. To have expressed in his 
presence the appreciation to which he was entitled 
would have embarrassed him. 

And now he is gone! 

But his work abides. He builded for all time, 



and for eternity. xVnd his gentle, genial, lovable 
personality will abide in our hearts all the journey 
through. He has gone ahead. 

May we amend, a little, a verse from Ethel Lynn 
Beers : 

But in my throat there's something chokes, 

Because, you see, I thought so long 

To count him in among our folks. 

I s'pose he must be happy there; 

And when His hand deals other strokes 

He'll stand by heaven's gate, I know, 

And wait to welcome in our folks. 

abbresis;— aaeb, a. ^. Currier 

Obed J. Wilson was the youngest child of the 
family of seven sons and seven daughters of Rev. 
Obed and Christiana Gray Wilson. He was born in 
their home in Bingham, Somerset County, Maine, 
August 30, 1826. The last Sunday, therefore, was 
his eighty-eighth birthday. His relatives and friends 
had anticipated having the pleasure of offering to 
him their congratulations on that day, but he was 
unconscious of the presence of those about him, and 
he passed away from this earthly life to the life 
celestial the next morning, August 31st. God had 
appointed something better for him than a longer 
stay with us here. 

His father was a successful minister of the jNIeth- 
odist Episcopal Church, toiling indefatigably for 
fort}^ years in the service of the Churches which this 
religious body had planted or was planting in the 
sparsely settled communities of the State. He took 

10 



high rank among his ministerial brethren as a man 
of strong mind, gifted with uncommon powers of 
clear thinking and popular eloquence. Because of 
his marked ability and reputation for wisdom, he 
was chosen, by his fellow citizens, a member of the 
Convention which framed the Constitution by which 
the "Province of Maine" was made a State in 
1820-21; repeatedly was elected afterward a member 
of the House of Representatives of the State, and, 
later on, honored b^^ being chosen State Senator. 
Absent much of the time from home, on account 
of his ministerial and public duties, he threw upon 
his sons the chief responsibility and labor of man- 
aging, with the help of their mother, the farm at 
home. Though poor, like most of the ministers of 
that day, because of the small salaries received, he 
and his good wife were rich in their children. Few 
fathers and mothers have been blessed with such 
riches. But poor as he was, and, therefore, without 
the means of giving to his children the advantages 
of a liberal education^having himself been handi- 
capped on account of the lack of it — he did what 
he could to encourage and assist his sons to acquire 
this by their own exertions. They thus mostly 
earned it for themselves, so that they all became 
men of well-disciplined minds, unusual intellectual 
attainments, and manifest culture. They did this by 
qualifying themselves to teach school winters, by 
which they obtained the means of securing in the 
autumn, after the work of the farm was done, the 
educational advantages of the county academ}^ the 
AYesleyan Institute of Kent's Hill, and of the College. 

11 



The oldest brother went to Waterville College (now 
Colby University), and had nearly completed its 
course when he died, at the age of twenty-one — the 
victim of exposure and overwork. The second son, 
Oliver, and the younger brothers, Horace and John, 
attended the school at Kent's Hill, which offered a 
good course of the higher studies. 

Obed, the youngest, lost his mother when but 
seven years of age. His schooling was more limited 
than that of any of his brothers, being confined to 
the studies pursued at the public school and to the 
advantages offered by Bloomfield xVcademy, at 
Skowhegan, w^hich he attended for several terms. 
My remembrance of him goes back to the time of 
his attendance at Bloomfield Academy. He lived 
with his sister Christiana on the Skowhegan side of 
the river. I recollect distinctly his personal appear- 
ance — a tall young man, of perhaps eighteen years 
of age, with an intelligent, scholarly face, starting 
from his sister's house, opposite to my father's store, 
to go over to the academy at the top of the hill on 
the Bloomfield side of the river. I was but a small 
boy, eleven years his junior, but not too young to 
notice this student — my mother's cousin — whose 
pleasant greetings pleased me, and whose resolute 
face and decisive step, animated b}^ a purpose to 
endeavor well, impressed me. 

His school days at the iVcademy ended, he came 
to Cincinnati, in 1846, in his twentieth year. He 
was probably draAvn hither by the fact that his 
older brother, Oliver, was then a highly esteemed 
teacher of one of the city's public schools, through 

12 



whose influence lie hoped to find employment here. 
His hope was fulfilled. He obtained a situation in 
the public schools, in which he taught for five 
years, studying law at the same time in his spare 
hours. 

In 1851, on account of the failure of his e^^esight, 
he was compelled to give up his teaching and dis- 
continue his law^ study. Fortunately, he secured a 
position as traveling agent with the firm of W. B. 
Smith & Company, schoolbook publishers. His 
success in this line of work, on account of his pleasing 
personal address and business ability, was phe- 
nomenal, and because of it he won the high esteem 
of the firm and the warm personal regard of its 
head, Mr. Smith, who became, and remained through 
life, his strongly attached friend. By reason of their 
appreciation of his services, the firm gave to him, 
with increase of salary, the most important position 
of correspondent, literary critic, and editor-in-chief 
of its publications. When Mr. Smith retired, Mr. 
Wilson became a member of the new firm then 
organized, of Sargent, Wilson & Hinkle, and later 
senior member of the firm of Wilson, Hinkle & Co. 
Through their energy and business ability, the 
business, under the latter firm, rapidly extended so 
that the house became the largest schoolbook con- 
cern in America. 

Because of intense application to business, Mr. 
Wilson's health became impaired, so that in 1869 
he went abroad, with ]Mrs. Wilson and her niece, 
for its recuperation through rest and European 
travel. The change and the attractions of the dif- 

13 



f erent cities and places of tourist resort visited proved 
to be immediately beneficial, and his impaired 
health was restored. At Rome, he was called home 
by the death of a partner. Returning, he gave him- 
self anew to his business for seven years. Having 
accumulated sufficient wealth to satisfy his desires, 
he withdrew from active business in 1877, when 
fifty-one years of age. He owed his remarkable 
success, one of his friends sa^^s, to a rare combination 
of the qualities of business man and writer. His 
ability in writing was doubtless natural, but de- 
veloped to excellence by his work in the book-firm 
of correspondent, literary critic, and editor-in-chief 
of its publications. 

He was not content with being a mere business 
man, absorbed entirely in money-making, and satis- 
fied with the success he won in it. He diligently 
cultivated his mind and wished to possess the intelli- 
gence and culture of a well-read man. He was fond 
of books, and became familiar, through his wide 
reading, with the choicest literature in our language. 
His private library became large and well furnished 
with the works of the illustrious authors of the re- 
mote past and of recent times. It was a pleasure 
just to look over its well-ordered shelves with their 
beautiful, costly array of books. But this library 
was for use, and not for ornament. It enriched his 
mind and heart. No stranger could talk with him 
an hour without discovering him to be a man of 
remarkable intelligence, broad culture, and refine- 
ment. His language in conversation was always apt 
and felicitous. He was interested in the problems 

14 



of our times — pondered them carefulh% and came 
usually to some conclusion in regard to them. 

To the culture of books he added that of extensive 
foreign travel. Besides the trip to Europe in 1869, 
for the improvement of his health, that has been re- 
ferred to, he made, after his retirement from busi- 
ness, three different trips abroad: one of five years, 
in which he visited the principal cities and capitals 
of Europe, sojourning for months in some of them; 
then, Egypt and Palestine; another, after an interval 
of a year spent at home with his books, in a trip 
around the world; and still another to the most 
interesting places in Great Britain. In these ex- 
tensive travels, his observant eye and receptive, 
aesthetic nature noted and appropriated, for his men- 
tal satisfaction and enlargement of view, the prof- 
itable fruits of travel. 

For the most of the time in his later years he has 
stayed in his beautiful home here in the society of his 
books and family friends. When I first visited him 
here, after the long interval of many years since I 
knew him in my boyhood as a student in Skowhegan, 
Me., attending Bloomfield Academy, I felt that I 
had made a happy discovery. I found in my cousin, 
who during that time of non-intercourse had almost 
been lost to my knowledge and acquaintance, a most 
attractive gentleman and valuable friend. His 
friendship has been a joy and source of happiness to 
me ever since. Of such men it may be truly said 
that it does one good just to look at them; and if 
they honor us with their friendship, we find in them 
the best gift God gives to man. 

15 



Standing here to-day in the atmosphere created 
by this rehgious service, which forbids any false 
utterance or untrue statement concerning my de- 
parted friend, I say this in regard to him, that he 
was one of the most remarkable men I have ever 
known. He was remarkable for his intelligence and 
scholarly attainments, in view of the fact that his 
educational advantages were so limited. He owed 
nothing to any college or university, and yet he was 
a liberally educated man — proving that one may 
rightly be said to have a liberal education, though 
he holds no diploma from college or university, if he 
has diligently improved his mind by liberalizing 
studies. Had he devoted himself to literature instead 
of business, I believe he would have won distinction 
as an author. When a young man he prepared and 
printed, for private circulation among friends, in 
1855, a "Biographical Sketch of Oliver Wilson," 
soon after the death of that beloved and gifted 
brother. This sketch, presented to me by the 
author, is a literary gem, displaying in composition 
rare gifts of authorship. The reading of it has re- 
minded me of Walton's brief "Life of George Her- 
bert," a classic in English literature. 

He was remarkable for his unfailing courtesy, 
shown alike to high and low, rich and poor. He 
greeted the humble driver of the carriage that came 
to take him out for an airing as carefully and cor- 
dially as he would have done to the Supreme Judge 
of the United States Court. 

He was remarkable for his abounding benevo- 
lence — a radiating center of good will and helpful 

16 



generosity. He exemplified the familiar description, 
in homely verse, of the good man who "Counted 
that day lost whose low, descending sun had seen 
from his hand no worthy action done." His bene- 
factions were multitudinous, multifarious, and 
princely. 

He was a remarkable man in his home life. His 
home has been rightly named, "Sweet Home," for 
it was ideal because of the love he here displayed 
and inspired. 

Finally, he was remarkable for his Christian char- 
acter and consistent Christian life. He loved the 
Church of his father, liberally contributed to its 
support, and held essentially its evangelical faith. 
His faith was evidenced in various ways — in the 
notes of approval given to his brother Oliver's re- 
ligious belief in the "Brief Sketch" I have referred 
to; in a recent letter to me written with his own 
hand with difficulty, in which he avowed his trust 
in Christ as his Savior; and, best proof of all, in 
the serenity and patience which he evinced to the 
last, showing that his religion was genuine, and had 
sanctified his soul. And so he has passed "from a 
Christian's life to a Christian's reward." Assured 
of this, we now think of him as united with those of 
whom our Lord Jesus said to His Father, "I will 
that they, whom Thou hast given Me, be with Me 
where I am, that they may behold My glory." 

We will not, therefore, reckon this occasion a 
sorrowful one. It is well with our departed friend. 
"Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord from 
henceforth — yea, saith the Spirit — that they may 



rest from their labors." "Delivered from the bm-den 
of the flesh, they are in joy and felicity." As you 
look upon his face at the end of this service, note 
how the peace of God is reflected in it. 

^raj^er — 3Reb, ©eber B. Eetcfjam 

Our Father in Heaven, whose gracious benedic- 
tion is ever extended to the needy of earth, we come 
to Thee in this hour of our sorrow to ask Thy help. 

Thou art He before whom all must come: even 
the angels and archangels, the cherubim and sera- 
phim, are ever bowing; and as the^^ veil their faces, 
they cry to each other, "Holy, holy, holy. Lord 
God of Hosts!" May we not, though unworthy, 
offer our tribute and call for Thy aid. 

We are met to-day amidst the shadows that have 
gathered over this home, to sympathize in the great 
loss and to pray for divine help; and now, upon the 
home long since consecrated by the tenderest love 
and by the most beautiful and all-abounding faith 
in God, we invoke the benediction of Thy constant 
presence. 

We thank Thee for the noble, consistent, well- 
- balanced, and beautiful life of Mr. Wilson. He bore 
every burden with fortitude, made the very conflict 
enrich his character with the enduring treasures of 
grace, walked among men with candor and perfect 
honor, won the esteem that knew no qualification, 
scattered his benefactions with loving hands, linked 
his outer life to the law of God and the inner to the 
Infinite Heart of Love. 

Many years were granted him in which to perfect 

18 



character and help others. ^Ye thank Thee for that 
help which made possible the holding, throughout 
life, those ideals that were worthy, and of so living 
that all who knew him are glad to attest a belief 
that lie succeeded to the final hour of conscious life. 
We rejoice that in youth he pledged his life to 
the right, and after fourscore and eight years had 
wrought their tests, drifted their snows, and chilled 
his vitality, his faith was sustained and beautiful, 
even triumphant. And now, in ripe age, with record 
pure and faith strong. Thou hast permitted him, 
ministered to by his devoted, loving wife, helped by 
friends and loved by all, to quietly pass from the 
pains of age to the joys of immortal youth. 

We believe, O God, in Thy Word, and rejoice in 
the bright hope of eternal life. As we stand by the 
side of this casket we hear the angel again say, as at 
the tomb near Calvary, "He is not here — he is risen." 
He was prepared for either world, wherever Thou 
couldst use him best, and already has joined that 
blood-washed throng who render ceaseless praise to 
the Giver of all good. 

And now, that the pains and pleasures, the toils 
and triumphs of earth are over, we thank Thee for 
the faith that makes us believe him at home in Thy 
gracious ])resence forever. We rejoice in the glad 
ho])e of the resurrection, and pray that life shall ever 
be lived as though we were confidently looking for 
the fruition of that hope. We desire our lives fash- 
ioned according to the Word of God. 

Our Father, while we thank Thee for the noble 
life and quiet, sustained faith of ]\Ir. Wilson, we ask 

19 



Thy special help for the one who has walked by his 
side during all these years. There will be hours of 
loneliness, days of questioning, and nights of sorrow. 
But in the midst of it all we believe Thy comforting 
grace will ever be present. Let Thou the angel of 
Thy covenant encamp round about her dwelling. Be 
Thou her God and her guide. And with strengthen- 
ing faith may she walk the remaining pilgrimage, till 
the chariot shall swing by, and together they shall 
behold the King in His beauty. 

We ask Thy blessing upon those who are closely 
related, or who, through ties of genuine friendship, 
have been linked to his home. We ask Thy grace 
upon that wide circle of acquaintances who, unable 
to be here, yet mingle with us in the lament of this 
hour in that a trusted friend will no longer greet 
them on earth. 

And now upon the tributes of this hour, and upon 
the silent love, more eloquent still, we invoke Thy 
special benediction. Accompany us to the nearby 
cemetery, only made beautiful through faith. Give 
to us now Thy sustaining grace. Give new and 
richer hope. May we, through the assurance of 
Thy Word, be able to look through the grave into 
that immortal realm into which our cherished friend 
has already entered, and rejoice that earth's conflict, 
being past, he is safe at home forever. 

And now upon us all and upon the sacred inter- 
ests of this home, upon the people here and every- 
where, may grace, mercy, and peace abide, through 
Jesus Christ our Lord, forever. — Amen. 



20 



^olo — Mv. ^aron Currier 

ABIDE WITH ME 

Abide with me! Fast falls the eventide, 
The darkness deepens — Lord, with me abide! 
When other helpers fail, and comforts flee, 
Help of the helpless, O abide with me! 

Swift to its close ebbs out life's little day: 
Earth's joys grow dim, its glories pass away; 
Change and deca^^ in all around I see; 

Thou, who changest not, abide with me! 

1 need Thy presence every passing hour. 

What but Thy grace can foil the tempter's power? 
Who, like Thj^self, my guide and stay can be? 
Through cloud and sunshine. Lord, abide with me! 

I fear no foe, with Thee at hand to bless; 
Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness; 
Where is Death's sting? Where, Grave, thy victory? 
I triumph, still, if Thou abide with me. 

Hold Thou Thy cross before my closing eyes; 
Shine through the gloom and point me to the skies; 
Heaven's morning breaks, and earth's vain shadows flee — 
In life, in death, O Lord, abide with me! 

— Henry E. Lyte. 

SJenebiction — Beb. ST* ?Senjamin Mv^v^ 

The Peace of God, w^iich passeth all understand- 
ing, keep your hearts and minds in the knowledge 
and love of God, and of His Son Jesus Christ our 
Lord; and the blessing of God Almighty, the Father, 
the Son, and the Holy Ghost, be amongst you, and 
remain with you always. — Ame7i. 

21 



^t ti)e #rabe 



Commitment — 3^eb» a, ^, Currier 

"We would not have you ignorant, brethren," says 
the Apostle Paul, "concerning them that fall asleep, that 
ye sorrow not, even as others, which have no hope. 

"For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, 
even so them also that are fallen asleep in Jesus will God 
bring with Him." 

"I heard a voice from heaven saying unto me," says 
the Apostle John, "Write, Blessed are the dead which 
die in the Lord from henceforth: yea, saith the Spirit, 
that they may rest from their labors: for their works 
follow with them." 

May the comfort of this assurance of the Holy Scrip- 
tures attend us as w^e turn away from this newly opened 
grave. — Amen. 



Jgenebittion — 3^eb» defter ©♦ llettfjam 

The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of 
God the Father, and the coniniunion of the Holy 
Ghost, be with you all, evermore. — Amen. 



Memorial Service 

in Honor of 

0\}tti 3. Wimn 

at 

Clifton Methodist Episcopal Church 

CINCINNATI, OHIO 



September 20, 1914 



To the Members and Friends of the Clifton Methodist 
Episcopal Church, 

Greetings: 

One of God's saints {and one of the most perfect 
men I ever kneiv), Mr. Ohed J. Wilson, of our congre- 
gation, has been called to his reward. 

From the beginning this congregation had in him 
one of its most earnest and generous supporters. His 
gifts to our Church would run up into the thousands. 

What less can ive do than to have a dignified me- 
viorial service to his memory? This will be held on next 
Sabbath, September 20th, at 11 A. M., in the church. 
Rev. Dr. Ketcham, a former pastor, and others of the 
former pastors, ivill be present. 

As I hieiD Mr. Wilson, there were elements in his 
character that should be known to our congregation, 
the majority of whom never met him. The service ivill 
be of the deepest interest, and we desire every member 
and friend to be present. We will honor ourselves in 
the service as tvell as revere the name of this courteous 
Christian gentleman, and now crowned saint of God. 

The music will be of the highest order. A quartet 
of the finest singers from the Conservatory of Music 
and Churches in the city, chosen from the very best, 
will be present and sing. 

It is a pleasure to be counted ivorthy to be associ- 
ated with you in the ivork of God for another year. 
Mrs. Blodgett joins me in this fraternal greeting. 
Your friend and pastor. 

The Roanoke, Clifton, C. W. BLODGETT. 
Cincinnati, Ohio, September 17, 1914. 

25 



In response to the foregoing announcement, which 
was sent out by the pastor, a large gathering of members 
of the congregation, its friends, and the friends and 
kindred of Mr. Wilson attended this service held in the 
Clifton Church, which was made even more beautiful 
by the floral tributes which bore silent testimony of 
affection and esteem. 

Rev. Blodgett, the present pastor, was assisted 
by Rev. Heber D. Ketcham, the first pastor of the 
Church, with whom Mr. Wilson was closely associated 
during the building of the church; and by Rev. J. W. 
Peters, another former pastor. 

Those who assisted in the musical part of the service 
were: Miss Alice Gardner, soprano; Mrs. Callahan 
Nees, alto; Mr. John Hoffman, tenor; Mr. Paul Se- 
bring, basso; and Miss Helen J. Peters, organist. 

The entire service is recorded in the following 
pages. — M. 



tKfje ^erbice 



(25rgan JPrelube— Largo Handel 

Cfjoir— Send Out Thy Light Gounod 

Send out Thy light, and Thy truth; let them lead me 
And let them bring me to Thy holy hill. 

Why, O soul, art thou sorrowful, and why cast down 

within me? 
Still trust the loving kindness of the God of thy strength, 
And my tongue yet shall praise Him who hath pleaded 

my cause. 

Lord, our God! Thou wilt save Thine anointed, 
Thou wilt hear us from heaven; 
Tho' in chariots some put their faith, 
Our trust is in Thee! 

They are brought down and fallen; 
But the Lord is our Helper, 
We shall not be afraid. 

Send out Thy light and Thy truth, let them lead me, 
And let them bring me to Thy holy hill. 
Send out Thy light, O Lord our God! 

I hold in my hand a poem written by Mr. Wilson 
many years ago, borrowed from a friend. It is a 
gem, a real classic. 

I will read only the last verses of it, and shall re- 
quest its re-publication in one of our daily papers. 



This poem indicates the fine texture of Mr. 
Wilson's mind and his aesthetic temperament. 

Close the scene and drop the curtain. 

Midnight, from her starry dome, 
Beacons the approaching morning. 

And I turn my footsteps home. 

On such scenes, on scenes thus varied, 
Shining on from year to year. 

Will those lights that gem the distance 
Be their radiance shedding here. 

I, meanwhile, as some lone taper 
Of yon myriad-blazing throng. 

Shall be swallowed up in darkness. 
While Life's waves still roll along. 

Few shall miss me, less will mourn me; 

I shall pass, as all, away. 
Swallowed up in black oblivion. 

As those lights in dawning day. 

Fit us. Father, for the future, 

Pardon all our errors past; 
Grant us Thy redeeming mercy. 

And a home with Thee at last; 

With our loved ones reunited 
Where no sins or sorrows fall, 

And congenial, useful service 
Is the common lot of all. 

Jl^pmn — How Firm a Foundation .... (Portuguese Hymn) 

How firm a foundation, ye saints of the Lord, 
Is laid for your faith in His excellent Word ! 
AVhat more can He say than to you He hath said, 
To you who, for refuge, to Jesus have fled? 

28 



"Fear not, I am with thee, O be not dismayed, 
For I am thy God, I will still give thee aid; 
I'll strengthen thee, help thee, and cause thee to stand, 
Upheld by My gracious, omnipotent hand. 

" When through the deep waters I call thee to go, 
The rivers of sorrow shall not overflow; 
For I will be with thee thy trials to bless, 
And sanctify to thee thy deepest distress. 

"When through fiery trials thj^ pathway shall lie. 
My grace, all-sufficient, shall be thy supply, 
The flame shall not hurt thee; I only design 
Thy dross to consume, and thy gold to refine. 

"E'en down to old age all My people shall prove 
My sovereign, eternal, unchangeable love; 
And when hoary hairs shall their temples adorn. 
Like lambs they shall still in My bosom be borne. 

"The soul that on Jesus hath leaned for repose, 
I will not, I will not, desert to his foes; 
That soul, though all hell should endeavor to shake, 
I'll never, no, never, no, never, forsake!" 

®ije apofiitles;' Creeb 

I believe in God, the Father Almighty, Maker of 
heaven and earth: 

And in Jesus Christ, His only Son our Lord; who 
was conceived by the Holy Ghost, born of the Virgin 
Mary; suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, 
dead, and buried; the third day He rose again from the 
dead; He ascended into heaven, and sitteth at the 
right hand of God the Father Almighty; from thence 
He shall come to judge the quick and the dead. 

I believe in the Holy Ghost; the holy catholic Church, 
the communion of saints; the forgiveness of sins; the 
resurrection of the body; and the life everlasting. — Amen. 

29 



draper— 3Reb, ?&eber ©, Hetcjjam 

Our Father in heaven, whose works are known 
upon the earth and wiiose gracious help is proffered 
to the children of men, we come to Thee at this hour 
to ask Thy presence with us. 

We commemorate to-day a noble life, whose 
earthly journey we believe is now swinging out into 
that wider realm of the invisible, immortal world. 

We are deeply pained in the enforced separation 
that takes from our immediate vision one we loved, 
but are confident he has but answered the call to 
that truer, nobler life only possible in the spirit world. 

We thank Thee for the good inheritance that 
gave him the right start in the world. We rejoice 
in the Christian surroundings in youth and earl}^ 
manhood that gave the right direction to the after- 
years, and taught him to be in sympathy with all 
that is good. We thank Thee for every good thought, 
for every kind word, for every gracious influence 
that emanated from his life of eighty-eight years. 
We believe he helped to make the world nobler, and 
many now testify that his life meant their better 
living. As we call to mind his faith and virtues in 
this sacred sanctuary of worship, we invoke the 
blessing of Almighty God upon these moments, 
upon all here assembled for worship, upon the 
memor}^ of happ}^ days of work and worship in this 
sanctuary, upon the memory of our departed friend, 
and upon all who sorrow in his death. 

We recall with thanksgiving that our departed 
brother and friend not only helped to make possible 

30 



this very house of worship, but made glad many a 
home and many a heart by his benefactions, and 
aided many organizations to places of influence for 
good. 

And now that he has been called from this visible 
scene, we would here not alone commemorate his 
virtues, but would dedicate our lives anew at this 
sacred altar to a like service tow^ard our fellows. 

Wilt Thou teach us Thy perfect ways of right- 
eousness, and grant to us strength to walk therein. 
Show us the importance of right living, and enable 
us to exalt the Kingdom of God above all the affairs 
of the world. May we live each day in harmony 
with the divine command, and, by properly directed 
worship, cultivate a sensitive conscience, so that its 
dictates may be obeyed and God's will thereby be 
done. We ask for that assured mood of mind, that 
constant desire for the right, that love of virtue 
which will give life its true meaning. We pray for 
that consciousness of the divine, that unselfish 
abandonment of mind and heart to the service of 
God that will echo, not alone in songs of praise and 
prayer in Thine earthly temple, but will re-echo in 
the corridors of that invisible world, where God 
reigns and His will is perfectly done. 

We ask for greater confidence in Thy perfect lead- 
ership in all the struggles of life, for conquest over 
self and over all the outward forms of sin. We pray 
for the coming of Thy Kingdom among men, and 
that Thy will may be done in us and through us for 
the establishment of righteousness in the world. 

We commend to Thee at this hour especially the 

31 



stricken home. Upon the one who sorrows so deeply 
in the departure of the companion of Hfe's journey 
we pray Thy gracious benediction may rest. Upon 
Thy people here assembled in worship we ask that 
Thy Holy Spirit may abide. zVnd upon the many 
unable to be with us, but whose sympathy and 
prayers join ours before Thy throne, we pray Thy 
peace. 

Vse are met to-day in this place of worship where 
Thy people are accustomed to meet to honor Thy 
name, this place made sacred by the labors with 
them in the establishing of this church. Therefore, 
we pray, in the tenderness of cherished memory, 
for the pastor who speaks Thy truth from Sabbath 
to Sabbath here, and upon all who love and worship 
in this, Thy temple. 

And, finally, when the toils and turmoils shall be 
over, when this visible life shall no longer be pro- 
vided us here, give to us, then, our Father, we pray, 
a place in Thy eternal Kingdom, through Christ 
our Lord, to whom shall be glory forever. — Amen. 

Cftoir— Lord's Prayer (Chant) 

Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy 
name; Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth, 
as it is in heaven. 

Give us this day our daily bread; and forgive us our 
trespasses as we forgive them that trespass against us: 

And lead us not into temptation, but deliver ns from 
evil: for Thine is the Kingdom, and the power, and the 
glory, forever. — Amen. 



32 



®enor ^Olo— From Oratorio, St. Paul Mendelssohn 

Be thou faithful unto death, 

And I will give to thee a crown of life. 

Be not afraid, i\Iy help is nigh. 

J^es^pons^ibe l^cabing-l^eb. J^lobgett leabing. . 91st Psalm 

He that dwelleth in the secret place of the Most High 
Shall abide under the shadow of the Almightj^ 

I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress; 
My God; in Him will I trust. 

Surely He shall deliver thee from the snare of the 

fowler. 
And from the noisome pestilence. 

He shall cover thee with His feathers, 
And under His wings shalt thou trust: 
His truth shall be thy shield and buckler. 

Thou shalt not be afraid for the terror by night; 
Nor for the arrow that flieth by day: 

Nor for the pestilence that walketh in darkness; 
Nor for the destruction that wasteth at noonday. 

A thousand shall fall at thy side. 
And ten thousand at thy right hand; 
But it shall not come nigh thee. 

Only witli thine eyes shall thou behold 
And see the reward of the wicked. 

For Tliou, O Lord, art my refuge: 

Thou hast made the ]Most High Thy habitation. 

88 



There shall no evil befall thee, 

Neither shall an}^ plague come nigh thy dwelling. 

For He shall give His angels charge over thee, 
To keep thee in all thy ways. 

They shall bear thee up in their hands, 
Lest thou dash thy foot against a stone. 

Thou shalt tread upon the lion and adder; 
The young lion and the dragon shalt thou trample 
under foot. 

Because he hath set his love upon Me, therefore will I 

deliver him: 
I will set him on high, because he hath known My 

name. 

He shall call upon Me, and I will answer him: 

I will be with him in trouble; 

I will deliver him, and honor him. 

With long life will I satisfy him. 
And show him My salvation. 

Ringing of tf)e (gloria ^atri 

Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the 
Holy Ghost; as it was in the beginning, is now, and 
ever shall be, world without end. Amen. Amen. 

^econb TLt^^on — Beb. Plobgett i Cor. 13 

Though I speak with the tongues of men and of 
angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding 
brass or a tinkling cymbal. 

And, though I have the gift of prophec3% and under- 



stand all mysteries, and all knowled<>e; and tliongh I 
have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and 
have not charity, I am nothing. 

And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor 
and though I give my bod}^ to be burned, and have not 
charity, it profiteth me nothing. 

Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth 
not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up; 

Does not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her 
own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil; 

Rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth; 

Beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all 
things, endureth all things. 

Charity never faileth: but whether there be proph- 
ecies, they shall fail; whether there be tongues, they 
shall cease; whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish 
away. 

For we know in part, and we prophesy in part. 

But when that which is perfect is come, then that 
which is in part shall be done away. 

When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood 
as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a 
man, I put away childish things. 

For now we see through a glass, darkh^; but then 
face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I 
know even as also I am known. 

And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three; 
but the greatest of these is charity. 

Cf)Oir— God Shall Wipe Away All Tears Field 

God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes. 
There shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor 

crying. 
Neither shall there be any more pain. 

—(Rev. 21:4.) 
3.5 



aaesiolutionsf— aaeab bp CoL Mm. P» Mtli^f^ 

As the sense of this congregation of the Chfton 
Methodist Church, the following is presented : 

God, in His Providence, having removed from earth 
to heaven our friend, Mr. Obed J. Wilson, we bear wit- 
ness to his splendid, well-rounded, symmetrical Chris- 
tian life. 

In him humanity had a friend. His sympathy was 
as broad as his benefactions great. 

During his nearly seventy years of residence in this 
city he commanded the confidence and esteem of all 
who knew him, either in a social or business way. 

His life spoke louder than his words. As a Christian 
and a polished gentleman, he impressed his many friends 
and associates. 

He was the inspiration of many philanthropies, con- 
spicuous among them being "The Home for the x4ged." 
As one of the few, he assisted in the planning of this 
church, and through the years of its existence he was 
one of its most liberal supporters. In the days of his 
physical retirement he still continued his abiding interest 
in our work. 

We are thankful to God for his life and presence 
among and with us. 

To his wife, who will so sorely miss him, and to all 
the relatives, we extend our deepest sympathy. 

Wm. B. Melish. 
Clark W. Davis. 
S. M. Richardson. 



36 



Luke 2:25. — ^' There loas a man in Jerusalem 
whose name ivas Simeon; and the same man was just 
and devout.^'' 

Proverbs 10:7. — ''The memory of the just is 
blessed.'^ 

I might change the first text to read as follows: 
"There was a man in Cincinnati whose name was 
Obed J. ^Yilson, and the same man was just and 
devout." Then, adding the other text to it, "The 
memory of the just is blessed." 

I shall, in my address this morning, only speak 
briefly of the early life of our friend. I could take up 
all of the time on this; indeed, his life and work are 
worth}^ of remembrance in book form. 

He was born August 30, 1826, in Bingham, Maine, 
and was translated and called to his heavenly home 
on the 31st day of August, the day after his eighty- 
eighth birthday. 

He came of good parentage. It is nine points in 
one's favor to be well born. His father was a very 
prominent Methodist minister in the State of Maine, 
and had much to do in the formulation of strong 
sentiment that has always prevailed there in favor 
of high ideals. At the age of twenty, in the year 
1846, he found his home in the city of Cincinnati. 
For five years he taught in the public schools. He 
then became associated with the book publishing 
house of W. B. Smith & Co., and upon INIr. Smith's 
retirement he })ecame a member of the firm of 
Sargent, Wilson & Hinkle, and then the senior 



member of the firm of Wilson, Hinkle & Co., known 
now as the American Book Company. 

He was married to Miss Amanda Landrmn, a 
teacher in this city, whose father was a prominent 
Methodist minister of the State of Kentucky. 
Through all the years of their married life happiness 
reigned supreme. 

I suppose every city has had its Simeon. God 
scatters such characters over the world. Men 
who, with broad sympathies, a wealth of common 
sense, a business capacity equal to almost any enter- 
prise, and a Christian charity and liberality that 
indicate to the world that there are in existence 
those who are ''stewards" of the manifold mercies 
of God. How few, seemingly, there are to take the 
places left vacant by the strong personalities of the 
age and generation of Obed J. Wilson. 

To some of you this splendid man was well known, 
and his life needs no eulogy. I only knew him in 
the mellowing and ripening years of his life. To my 
mind, he was one of the purest and best men I have 
ever met. I never visited him in his home— called 
by himself and wife "Sweet Home" — that I did not 
come away with a desire to be a better man and 
Christian. 

Obed J. Wilson was not an ordinary man. They 
are many. He was in the catalogue of the extraor- 
dinary. The man who does something for mankind 
is the man that will live. The majority may not be 
familiar with the name of that great Neapolitan, 
Flavins, and yet every steamer that i)lies the waves 
speaks his benediction. The same might be said of 

38 



Riidyard and Smeaton, who brought to practical 
apphcation the focused rays out o'er the reefs and 
breakers and narrows to warn mariners of dangerous 
reefs. Gutenberg will live in type and printing, 
Stephenson in the steam engine, Morse in the tele- 
graph. Field in the Atlantic cable — but what of 
our departed friend, Mr. Wilson? I would not refer 
you to the "Home of the Aged" especially, but what 
a blessing that is now and is yet to be; nor to his 
many benefactions silently and unostentatiously 
done, as the inspiration given to the Teachers' Asso- 
ciation of this city in his generous gift — the first to 
be made; but I would call your attention to our 
present system of education in our public schools. 

His was the master mind that largely planned it. 
Himself a teacher in our public schools from 1846 to 
1851, he felt the necessity of better methods and 
system, and as the senior member of Wilson, Hinkle 
& Co., he gave to the world of education, for the 
masses, a new breath of life, and one that was not only 
evolutionary, but revolutionary. 

First, Mr. Wilson was a New Englander from the 
State of Maine, and back of him was a splendid 
ancestry. This has something, aye, much, to do 
with the making of the man, of the royal, courteous 
Christian gentleman. To the coachman or the 
laborer he extended the same courtesy in his ad- 
dress as to the prominent gentleman entertained by 
himself and wife in their beautiful home. 

He was pre-eminently a just man. Whom did 
he ever wTong.^ His business name w^as a synonym 
of honor and justice to employee or customer. True, 

39 



he had indomitable will and courage, but the finer 
elements of his life penetrated them until they were 
allurements rather than monarchial forces. 

He commanded the confidence of all. What a 
lesson for the young of to-day ! He had the positive- 
ness of the just, but a refusal to acquiesce from his 
lips meant that he had considered every side of the 
proposition, and was honest in his decision. 

Mr. Wilson's religion was the thirteenth chapter 
of First Corinthians, read in your hearing this morn- 
ing. It was that of Paul. It is the religion of the 
Master in the concrete. 

Second, he was a man who believed in God. The 
Almighty was not to him a mere name, an abstrac- 
tion, but a reality. He walked and talked and lived 
as if he were some day (seeking so to live as to make 
that some day any day) to stand in the presence of 
his God and render an account of his stewardship. 

He loved this world, humanity, his friends, his 
loved ones, but he loved God more. What a man 
thinks of, and how he acts toward God, that, man is. 

No man ever rises higher than his ideals. If the 
ideal is purity and the supreme embodies that, he 
rises tow^ard it. In early life in the home of his 
Methodist preacher father he became acquainted 
with God. He breathed in the spirit of "The Man 
of Galilee." His character was not the birth of a 
moment. From childhood to the day of translation 
the building process continued. I think the Re- 
deemed of God, the spirits of just men made perfect, 
and the angels of the Infinite were glad to greet him, 
as the gates opened on the olst day of August. 

40 



Mr. Wilson dwelt not in a negative mood. His 
eyes shone with a deep, keen insight into affirma- 
tions. Everything that he grasped of principles, 
truth, revealments, loves, he made his own, and, 
whilst holding them, gave them forth to the world 
and never grew^ poorer in mind or in love, but richer. 

My friends, the chief fact in regard to a man is 
not his business, but his religion. First Corinthians, 
thirteenth chapter, was his in the concrete. 

Who that knew Mr. Wilson ever doubted that he 
believed the Bible to be the Word of God. He be- 
lieved as a scholar, as one seeking after God, and 
whilst he talked to God he let God talk to him 
through the Word; and the Book was to him the 
Book of books in the massive home library that is 
filled with the choice literature of the ages. 

To the last of his long and eventful life, covering 
a period of eighty-eight years, he was looking for a 
brighter day. The world never had any sable cur- 
tains stretched across his pathway. He marched on 
and up through childhood from the Methodist manse 
of a New England Church, as a teacher in the 
public schools in this city, in his preparation for the 
profession of the law, as a literary editor, as a busi- 
ness man, not expecting every day to be sunshine; 
but his life said, "I will make the days of gloom, as 
well as those of radiance, sources of reserve power." 

He never discouraged others. He could not. 
What an inspiration he was to me; and in the days 
of his shut-in life he still was deeply interested in 
the work of this Church, aye, of all Churches. 

He reached out his trusting arms and, taking 

41 



hold of God, seemed to say, "God is great, and my 
belief in Him, in His omnipotence, makes me omnipo- 
tent." 

You who knew him felt the electrifying influence 
of his personality. He was a Prince in Israel. 

He tested not truth by his learning, nor by 
doubt, nor by the critical analysis of the scholar, 
but by trust. He believed in education. The best 
years of his life were given to it. He knew the value 
of the severest discipline of body, mind, and soul, 
yet he tried not the strength of any man by the 
completeness of that discipline, but by his life hid 
within the all-enveloping life of his Redeemer and 
God. 

We all believe in the general providence of God. 
So did Brother Wilson; also in special providence. 
The psalm read by us responsively indicated this to 
you, at least his abiding trust in God to guide him. 

Who that knew him ever doubted his fidelity. 
He loved his own. His love for his wife, the bride 
of his young manhood days, increasing in the passing 
of the years. And how she loved him! They were 
one. Could I picture to you this love, it would be 
like an Eden filled with spices, frankincense, and 
myrrh. One day, during the latter hours of his life, 
she brought to him a rose, plucked from their own 
garden, and held it before him that he might see its 
beauty and enjoy its fragrance, saying, ''Husband, 
see this lovely rose." He replied, *' Where is the 
hand that holds it.^ It is better than the rose." 
Those were his last words to her. 

I nmst say a word as to his faithfulness. Some 

42 



of us that were permitted the joy of entering into the 
inner companionship of Mr. Wilson knew him as a 
friend; and how true he w^as in his friendship! He 
was no shifter, playing fast and loose. Not the rich 
or great alone during his long life did he mingle with 
(and many such felt the pulsations of his great 
heart), but the humble as well, the hewers of wood 
and drawers of water. His consolations were as 
swift to alleviate as the magnitude of his resources. 
He was not a little man — he gave, and God gave 
back to him. 

He passed to his reward leaving an infinitely 
richer inheritance for what he gave away. 

You ask me the secret of his influence and stand- 
ing.^ It was not in his words in public utterance or 
private speech. They were few. It was not in his 
remarkable executive ability and business capacity, 
though these in the days of his activity made him a 
remarkable man among men. 

It was not in his wealth accumulated through 
diligence and untiring industry; it was not in loud 
profession of religious convictions or experiences. 
What, then, was the secret.^ 

It was his sympathy, which was the wealth of 
humanity injected into all of his undertakings, 
w^iether religious or secular. Wherever he was 
known and his name was mentioned, you seemed 
to hear the beat of a great big heart. Such men are 
inspirations, not repressions. He loved the beauti- 
ful — God in nature and humanity. 

I have thought of him, as Schiller, the German 
poet, said, "It was through the Gate Beautiful that 

43 



he went into the dawning of a new day." The Pilot, 
his Pilot, God's Pilot, met him as he crossed the 
bar. 

The words of Tennyson come to me as I have 
given you just a glimpse of Mr. Wilson's character, 
and as we look into the future : 

Sunset and evening star, 

And one clear call for me! 
And may there be no moaning of the bar 

When I put out to sea. 

But such a tide as, moving, seems asleep, 

Too full for sound and foam. 
When that which drew from out the boundless 
deep 

Turns again home. 

Twilight and evening bell, 

And after that the dark! 
And may there be no sadness or farewell 

When I embark; 

For, though from out our bourne of Time and 
Place 

The flood may bear me far, 
I hope to see my Pilot face to face 

When I have crossed the bar. 



As I greet you this hour, it is with the tenderest 
memories of the beginnings of this society. It be- 
came my privilege to organize the Clifton Church, 
to direct its first three years of worship, and to be 

44 



associated with the charter members of this Church 
in their first plans. I can scarcely restrain the 
emotion, asking for assertion, as the past would 
come to mind. 

Among those who befriended this society in its 
very inception, and who, by generous gifts along 
with the others, projected this Church, free from 
debt, into the Christian working force of Cincinnati, 
were Mr. and Mrs. Obed J. Wilson. These w^alls 
echo with sacred memories. Yonder beautiful me- 
morial window distills its chastened light upon 
sacred days, in their honor. The very organ speaks, 
and the echo of sacred music from the dedication 
day brings the voice of one closely related to INIr. 
and ]Mrs. Wilson's home. 

As we think of Mr. AYilson, we are led to give 
thanks to God for his life and labor, for his Christian 
character and influence, and for liis triumphant 
manhood, now assured in the rewards of the final 
Kingdom of God. 

You have heard, in the complete and appropriate 
memorial tribute of the pastor of the Church, the 
fuller statement of Mr. Wilson's life. It, therefore, 
would only be appropriate for me to express the 
more general word of appreciation. 

Mr. Wilson was of sturdy New England ancestry, 
his father a Methodist minister, so that he was 
schooled in that rigid, splendid economy, that care 
for others, and that love of virtue that laid the 
foundation for his sterling character, maintained un- 
swervingly to the end. 

For many years he stood the test of the business 

4.5 



world. Through all his active career he remained 
unquestioned, so that from the beginning to the 
end he was regarded as the soul of honor. It is safe 
to say that no man in the last half century, among 
those who have made Cincinnati great, has been 
more influential or more highly esteemed than 
Obed J. Wilson. 

He was possessed of a keen, discriminating mind, 
was studious, loved the companionship of his books, 
loved the companionship of those who thought upon 
the more noble views of life, was ardent in the pur- 
suit of knowledge, and justly merited a high rank in 
the intellectual world. He was genuinely cultured. 

As a man, he stood the test. He was gentle, 
tender, strong, and true; at once fearless and kind, 
firm yet pliable, uncompromising in every virtue, 
uncomplaining in every sorrow — a man of affairs, a 
Christian gentleman. With a grace of manner and 
a refinement of thought, wrought out of years of 
consistent self-discipline, with an all-abounding love 
for the good, with a mind open to the Infinite, he 
stood supreme in the love of his fellows. 

His philanthropy knew no bounds. Not alone 
has he made institutions such as the "Home for the 
Aged" possible, but his benefactions were scattered 
on every hand, yet withal so modest and unassum- 
ing was he that he would blush when his deeds of 
kindness were mentioned. He preferred to let the 
good he did speak for itself, rather than himself be 
known as the giver. Did any one ever know him to 
be assuming because he had aided in the time of 
need? He was as courteous to the servants in his 

46 



home, to the workmen he might casually meet, as to 
the one who was far-famed among his fellows. 

He was frank and honorable. When he expressed 
his opinion or preference, you were assured that no 
ulterior motive had determined the word he spoke. 
Such candor made genuine friendship possible. He 
was not one to whom you rushed in unrestrained and 
jovial manner, but rather approached in more sym- 
pathetic and thoughtful mood. His own nature 
seemed to suggest to you the manner of your ap- 
proach. He examined carefully his friendships before 
giving an unreserved trust. But when you knew 
him, and he knew your own sincerity, friendship 
grappled you together and bound you by more than 
ordinary ties. 

Possibly in no place did he exhibit the nobility 
of his nature more than in his home. Nowhere did 
his marked and beautiful character find truer ex- 
pression than there. Hospitality and devotion were 
perfectly commingled. Mrs. Wilson, herself a 
daughter of Rev. Francis Landrum, an honored 
minister of the Methodist Church, was in perfect 
accord with him in all his ideals of culture, of hos- 
pitality, and of Christian living. She was devoted 
and tender of his every interest. He responded in 
that same tenderness toward her. Together they 
walked in love for sixty-one years. Whether in the 
life of Cincinnati or traveling in distant lands or 
among loved friends or in the quiet of their own 
beautiful Clifton home, they were the same, their in- 
terests one — always strong, ever hospitable, loving the 
good, and hallowing all by a sincere worship to God. 

47 



Mr. Wilson did not intrude his religious thought 
upon others; and to know him in his more deeply 
religious moments you would need to talk with him 
in the quiet of unguarded friendship. While con- 
versing with him one day in his home about the 
essentials of the Christian belief, in answer to the 
statement that "the real point of one's committal to 
God and entrance into the Church was found in 
Christ's expression, 'Thou shalt love the Lord thy 
God with all thy heart, with all thy soul, with all 
thy mind, and with all thy strength, and thy neighbor 
as thyself,'" he looked up quickly, and, as if a light 
shone through his countenance, said, "Brother 
Ketcham, if you will make that the condition of 
entrance, I would unite with the Church on the 
coming Sunday morning." While the outward 
formality of Church membership may not have been 
recorded, yet in heart he was as genuinely Christian 
as any one whom we know. He lived his religion, 
read the Word of God and offered prayer in his 
home every day, walked among his fellows with a 
sustained and abiding confidence in God, invoked 
the benediction of heaven upon all with whom he 
dealt, endeavored to square his moral accounts each 
day, and, we believe, enjoyed the inward conscious- 
ness of divine fellowship to the hour of his death. 

Such a man is fit for either world, wherever God 
will call. He is at home among the strong, is wel- 
come among the weak, is not alone though unat- 
tended by his fellows, for he is conscious of the 
presence of the One who said, "Lo, I am with you 
alway, even unto the end." While no man is per- 



48 



feet, and he would be the first to mention his own 
faihngs, yet we beheve, when judged by the reason- 
able Christian standard by Avhich those in our limited 
life may be justly judged, he was approved both 
before man and God. The achievement of noble 
character is the one thing in this life that is worth 
while. Men are not great because they have amassed 
wealth, nor because their names are known and 
honored, but because of the achievement of that 
nobility of nature which shall abide in God's presence 
forever. 

AYhile we sorrow in the departure of ]Mr. Wilson, 
yet we are met to-day not so much to express that 
grief as to do honor to his memory, and as Christians 
to affirm our belief in the enduring worth of virtuous 
character. He lived well, shared the uneven ex- 
periences of our common lot in the world, and main- 
tained a good name to the end. He kept unsullied 
his confidence in God, enjoyed the blessing of an 
approving conscience, passed from earth amidst the 
quiet of his home, surrounded by those who loved 
him, and has already entered upon the immortal 
reward. 

Thanks be unto God who has given him the 
victory and will give it for ever and ever. 

J^emarfes;— 3aeb, 2F. M. peters; 

A neighbor of ours, just returned from Germany, 
was passing along the street when I remarked, 
"When did you return?" She said, "Last Thurs- 
day." "Were you glad to get back.^" "To be here 

49 



seems almost too good to be true. When I remem- 
bered the trouble and danger we had in getting out 
of Germany, the constant dread we had on the 
ocean lest we meet the ships of the enemy, the 
storms and fearful icebergs, all of which we escaped, 
why, when I saw the high buildings and spires of 
New York, I wept for joy, that I had reached home, 
a land of peace and safety." 

It was, indeed, something to rejoice over — home 
at last! 

It is a great thing to live through a long life and 
come out safely. Mr. Wilson accomplished that 
task; he fought a good fight. The smell of fire was 
not on his garments. He was more than conqueror. 

The words of Mrs. Barbauld seem appropriately 
to be put in his mouth — 

Life, we've been long together, 

Through pleasant and through cloudy weather; 

'Tis hard to part when friends are dear — 

Perhaps 'twill cost a sigh, a tear; — 

Then steal away, give little warning, 

Choose thine own time: 

Say not Good Night, but in some brighter clime 
Bid me Good Morning. 

Mr. Wilson has received his welcome. His works 
follow him; he rests from his labors. "He fell on 
sleep, and was not, because God took him." 



50 



J^pmn— Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty. . . (Nicsea) 

Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty! 

Early in the morning our song shall rise to Thee. 
Holy, holy, holy, merciful and mighty, 

God in Three Persons, blessed Trinity! 

Holy, holy, holy! all the saints adore Thee, 

Casting down their golden crowns around the glassy 
sea; 

Cherubim and seraphim falling down before Thee, 
Which wert and art and evermore shalt be. 

Hol}^ holy, holy! though the darkness hide Thee, 
Though the eye of sinful man Thj^ glory may not see; 

Only Thou art holy; there is none beside Thee, 
Perfect in power, in love, and purity. 

Holy, holy, holy. Lord God Almighty! 

All Thy works shall praise Thy name, in earth, and 
sky, and sea; 
Holy, holy, holy, merciful and mighty, 

God in Three Persons, blessed Trinity! 



?@enebiction— aaeb, f , M. peters; 

The Grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Love of 
God, and the Communion of the Holy Ghost, be 
with you all, evermore. — Amen. 



.51 



^too ^oemss 



ONE QUOTED IN PART BY REV. BLODGETT, IN THE MEMORIAL 

SERVICE, ENTITLED, " CITY LIGHTS," AND THE OTHER, 

"life: TEMPORAL, ETERNAL," ARE SELECTED 

FROM MR. Wilson's writings and inserted 

HERE AS expressive OF HIS 
ABIDING FAITH. 



Citp Higfjts; 



A Sketch of Suggestive Local Scenery, as Viewed from 
Lafayette Avenue Along the Crest of the Northern 
Hills of Clifton. 

I saw the sun, descending, 

Touch the liilltops, and retire, 
While along the West went ebbing. 

Wave on wave, its crimson fire; 
Wave on wave, its radiance golden, 

Slowly ebbing, died away, 
And the twilight's russet billows 

Settled 'round the grave of day. 

Strolling o'er the hills of Clifton, 

I beheld the sun go down 
And the shades of twilight settle 

O'er the dim and dark'ning town; 
On my right Probasco Mansion, 

On my left the Bowler Hall, 
With the Shoenberger palace 

Rising stately over all; 
Further east, inviting villas 

Crown with loveliness the hills, 
And rich amplitude of beauty 

All the broad'ning landscape fills. 
Here my own Sweet Home, half-hidden 

In among embowering trees 
Whose great age is aptly reckoned 

Xot in years, but centuries; 
Grand old oaks, the few survivors 

Of a dense, primeval wood 
AYhich, in days long since departed, 

On these heights majestic stood. 



On their weathered tops the sunHght 

Of morning earliest dawns, 
And, slow descending, overflows 

The broad and verdant lawns; 
And thence, the sun departing, 

Shoots his shafts of arrowy light 
Backward, Parthian-like, resisting 

The oncoming march of night — 
Night, with its starry splendors. 

In love and goodness sent 
To beautify and glorify 

The boundless firmament. 



Farther on, and up the valley, 

Down which Mah-ke-te-wa* flows. 
The untiring train of traffic, 

Rattling, thundering, smoking, goes; 
Nearer, busy plants of industry, 

Thickly scattered here and there. 
Belch their gloom in murky volumes 

On the foully-scented air. 
Here the Indians of the aforetime 

Lived and loved and hunted game, 
Happy children of the forest, 

Ere the ruthless white man came; 
Came with smiles and suave professions. 

Lies on lip and guile in heart. 
Robbed the redman of his birthright. 

Bade him, desolate, depart. 
Sons and daughters of the spoiler. 

Ye who dwell where once they dwelt. 
Drop a tear for a banished people. 

With whom our sires unjustly dealt; 



* Indian name of Mill Creek. 



We can not atone for the wrongs inflicted, 

We can but grieve that those wrongs were 
done : 

Peace to the ashes of the poor evicted 
That line our L^nd to the set of sun! 

Down the slopes, within the valley, 

Like a pictured map outspread, 
With its grove of marble columns, 

Lies the City of the Dead; 
All its walks and drives deserted, 

All its muffled griefs suppressed, 
There the wicked cease from troubling 

And the weary are at rest; 
There no longer doubt, estrangement, 

Envy, jealousy, or wrong. 
Neighbor alienates from neighbor 

In that congregated throng; 
There all discords and dissensions, 

All misunderstandings, cease. 
In the realm of rest eternal. 

Home of everlasting peace. 

As alone within the gloaming 

Leisurely I walk the heights. 
Looking outward o'er the valley 

With its wealth of kindling lights 
Bursting, flower-like, through the shadows. 

Twinkling, star-like, 'mid the gloom, 
Till the field of deep'ning darkness 

Is with radiance all a-bloom; 
Fancy, curious, wings the distance 

Over traffic's jar and din, 
Hovers round each open portal. 

Through the windows peering in, 

57 



Sketching pictures, dim or vivid, 

Of the varied scenes of life. 
From the sweet homes of affection 

To the wretched homes of strife; 
Types of ever-varying phases 

Of man's swiftly passing hours, 
Lights and shadows intermingled. 

Sadness, gladness, thorns and flowers. 

Draw aside the veiling curtain. 
Be the pictures rude revealed, 

They may teach some simple lesson. 
May some useful moral yield. 

Here a fair young mother, dandling 

Her sweet babe within her arms, 
Proud and happy in the promise 

Of her duplicated charms; 
There a group of noisy children. 

Joyful, boist'rous, at their play. 
Shouting, romping, wild with pleasure, 

Whiling golden hours away; 
Here a throng of guests assembled 

At the merry marriage tide. 
Offering sweet congratulations 

To the bridegroom and the bride; 
There a banquet, gay with revel, 

Rich abundance, wine, and song; 
Here the widow and the orphan. 

Heirs of penury and wrong; 

Now an old man, silent, thoughtful. 
Musing o'er his vanished days. 

Neither longing for nor dreading 
The near parting of the ways; 
58 



Here a band of weeping kindred, 

Sorrowing, hushed, with bated breath, 
While tlie ]x\ssing loved one lingers 

In the enfolding arms of Death: 
Now the silver cord is loosened, 

Broken, now, the golden bowl. 
Dust to dust at last returneth, 

And to God the immortal soul; 
Now, within His Holy Acre, 

Where the stricken come to weep, 
He, beneath the cooling shadows, 

Giveth His beloved sleep. 

Close the scene and drop the curtain. 

Midnight, from her starry dome. 
Beacons the approaching morning. 

And I turn my footsteps home. 

On such scenes, on scenes thus varied. 
Shining on from year to year, 

Will those lights that gem the distance 
Be their radiance shedding here. 

I, meanwhile, as some lone taper 

Of yon myriad-blazing throng. 
Shall be swallowed up in darkness 

While Life's waves still roll along; 
Few will miss me, less will mourn me, 

I shall pass, as all, away. 
Swallowed up in black oblivion. 

As those lights in dawning day. 

Fit us, Father, for the future. 

Pardon all our errors past; 
Grant us Thy redeeming mercy. 

And a home with Thee at last; 
59 



With our loved ones reunited 
Where no sins or sorrows fall, 

And congenial, useful service 
Is the common lot of all. 



TLitt: tEemporal, eternal 

The things that are seen are temporal; but the things 
ivhich are not seen are eternal.— St. Paul. 

Life, like the year, has its seasons, — 

Young Spring with its fragrance and flowers, 
A Summer of promise, an Autumn of fruitage, 

And Winter with its desolate hours; 
And youth is the springtime of being, 
To plow in, to sow, and to plant, 
And the harvests we gather 
Depend upon whether 
We laze like the sluggard or toil like the ant. 

The flowers of my springtime have faded, 

My Summer of striving is o'er, 
And I stand 'mid the fruits of the Autumn, 

Content with the bountiful store; 
Yet I shrink from the chill of the Winter, 
Whose snows are beginning to fall, 
And fearfully shiver 
As I draw near the river 
Whose wide-wasting waters encircle us all. 

Yet they tell me that over the river 
Are homes which the worthy may win. 

In a land of perennial beauty, 
Unsaddened by sorroAv and sin; 

And there the glorified children 
60 



Of ^yisdom, and goodness, and truth 

Meet, never to sever. 

But, for ever and ever. 
Shall dwell in the beauty of immortal youth. 

Is such destiny surely ours? 

Are the tangible objects of time 
But the shadows of spirit existence 

Projected from spaces sublime? 
Is the unseen only the eternal? 

Through death does life truly begin? 
Is the real the ideal, 
And the ideal the real. 
In the life we are losing the life we may win? 

Vain, fruitless, all question! No oracle answers. 

The sibyls are silent, and Delphi is dumb: 
But, lo! from the lips of the Teacher of Zion, 

The meek and the lowly, the glad tidings come: 
"In the house of My Father the mansions are many; 
I go to prepare, that with Me you may dwell 
In glory supernal. 
Unfading, eternal, 
Transcending all pleasures that mortal may tell." 

So we trust, so believe, and are happy in holding 

The faith of our fathers, who in triumph passed on. 
Having fought the good fight in the conflict with evil, 
And laid down the cross, but to take up the crown: 
Then welcome, thrice welcome, the snows that are 
falling; 
No longer I'll shrink from the chill which they 
bring. 
Since over the river 
Are blooming forever 
The Eden-like gardens of perpetual Spring. 



61 



Be it mine, be it thine, noble brother, 

To meet in that radiant land. 
With the loved and the lovely, the lost and lamented, 

Reunited the dear ones, an unbroken band; 
And, 'mid genial surroundings, in glad avocations, 
By the Master, in love to us given. 
Solve the manifold mystery 
Of Creation's history. 
Through the infinite cycles of Heaven. 



^ Jfeto ^ritiuteiS 



DAVID H. MOORE. 

BISHOP OF 

THE METHODIST EPISCOPAL CHURCH 

RETIRED 



September 18, 1914. 
Dear Mrs. Wilson: 

The blow so long dreaded has fallen. 
The Christian, the courtly, the philosophic, the re- 
fined, and noble Obed J. Wilson has been called up 
higher. What an exceptional character he was! He 
was in a class by himself. He lived in a different atmos- 
phere. He walked upon the earth, but his head reached 
the heavens. Poesy, and art, and lofty meditation 
were his recreation. He was knightly in his service of 
humanity. He was a prophecy of the coming man. 
Requiescat in pace! 

How lonely you will be! You were so devoted to 
each other! His growing feebleness called out your 
wealth of tender affection. It will stand expectant, 
awaiting a call that does not come. Yet the parting 
can not be long. And the reunion will be so blessed. 

Unto Him who is the resurrection and the life, I 
commend you. "His loving-kindness, O how sweet!" 
In prayerful sympathy, 

David H. Moore. 
Mrs. O. J. Wilson, 
Clifton, Cincinnati. 



Milton, Mass., 29 October, 1914. 

Dear Mrs. Wilson: 

I thank you for the kmdly remembrance of me 
shown by the receipt of a few of the testimonials of 
love and regard printed or written by those who knew 
Mr. Wilson. Others have come to me from my former 
business associates. Not a day has passed, since I 
received that woeful telegram, in which I have not 
prayerfully remembered you in your loneliness. 

Words can not express how much I owe to Mr. 
Wilson. It is nearly fifty years since I first sat near him 
in the little office. I was a mere country youth : he was 
a scholarly man and a good business man. I do not 
remember that I ever received from him an express 
command or direct instruction, but with a gentle hint 
or a mirthful suggestion I was led to see where I had 
blundered. From him I received all my business train- 
ing. To him was due my admission as a partner in his 
business when he was the potent chief. I have met 
most of the publishers of my day. Not one of them 
had a tithe of the power possessed by Mr. Wilson. In 
all the years of my business career, he was my pattern, 
and substantially my guide. I loved him, and I now 
cherish his memory. I am proud to have had his friend- 
ship. 

This is not a letter of consolation. God alone can 
give you that. I know full well how you suffer, and you 
have my warmest sympathy. 

Yours truly, 

Henry H. Vail. 



Extracts from a Letter 

FROM 

Miss Florence M. Wilson 



Tokyo, Japan, October 9th, 1914 
My Dear Aunt Amanda: 

I wish I could say something which could lessen the 
loneliness of these sad days; but I have no words. My 
heart is one big ache for you. 

The Good Father seems to make us see things more 
sanely when a terribly heavy blow falls, — something 
which we had felt could not possibly be borne, — and 
I know He has in some way softened this for you. 
I cannot but be thankful that you have been spared all 
these years, to be with him, always, even to the very 
last. 

When I think of the years of travel, in all lands and 
under almost every kind of circumstances, it seems in- 
credible that you two should be allowed to spend your 
last years in such quiet and comfort, and together, in 
the home you both loved. God has been very good to 
you, and you both have richly deserved it. 

You know with what reverent respect Inagaki Sama 
has always looked upon you and Uncle Obed. Your 
beautiful and continued kindness to her daughter has 
never been forgotten, nor has her appreciation lessened 
with time. 

When the first word came that your dearest one had 
gone, she asked a few questions, first about you, then 
me, and then slipped away to her shrine, to light a tiny 
lamp to guide the traveler on the unknown way. When 
I went into the parlor an hour later, I saw that she had 
placed Uncle's picture in a niche of the tokonoma, with 
a scarf of white softly draped around it. Beneath was 

G7 



a white vase of white chrysanthemums, and a Httle 
bronze burner holding a Hghted stick of incense. 

She had asked her daughter if she might do this, and 
she told her that Mr. Wilson was such a good man that 
he was worthy of the respect that could be shown by 
any custom of any religion. Then Inagaki Sama knelt 
before the picture, softly clapped her hands, and asked 
the gods to allow your husband to be always near you 
as long as your life shall last. 

* * * * H^ 

I must close. I send love from the deepest wells of 
my heart, and the whole household join with me in 
wordless, but deep, sympathy. My dear, dear Aunt 
Amanda, most lovingly I say goodnight. 

Florence. 



